


Season of the Witch

by Gaffsie



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Blow Jobs, Condoms, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Sex Pollen, Smut, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 11:16:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17385470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaffsie/pseuds/Gaffsie
Summary: Jughead's acting weird, and Sweet Pea goes to investigate.





	Season of the Witch

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this](https://riverdale-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1356.html?thread=624716#cmt624716) kinkmeme prompt: "FP's out of town on ~business~ when Jughead gets pathetically sick, or so they all think. Sweet Pea goes to check in on him and fuss around him but finds Jughead feverish and delirious... and all over him.
> 
> Options: 1) Sweet Pea's a teenage boy, he gives in and fuck Jughead six ways to Sunday or 2) He resists and once it passes, Jughead is EXTREMELY embarrassed.
> 
> Explanation for sickness which none of them find out/realise: Ethel's a witch and dropped some sex pollen in Jughead's lunch, she didn't bet on him leaving school early."

It's strangely quiet in their corner of the student lounge. Toni and Cheryl are whispering sweet nothings to each other, as usual, and Fangs is moodily eating Skittles while watching Kevin Keller flirt with Moose Mason across the room. Sadly, that's also business as usual. Sweet Pea frowns at the sight; Fangs really needs to give up on Keller; the guy is obviously a bit of a dick when it comes to Southsiders, and he seems pretty hung up on Moose besides.

What isn't usual is that there's no beanie wearing nerd talking their ears off about some perceived injustice while simultaneously chomping on Doritos. 

“Hey,” Sweet Pea says. “Where's Jones?” 

“Who cares where King Hobo went.” Cheryl sends him a bored look, and then turns back to Toni. She's playing with her hair, twirling a pink strand around her finger and then letting it go, watching it bounce a little. Like she's hypnotized. 

Toni is more helpful. “He was here at lunch,” she says. “He was eating with Cooper and and that Ethel girl.”

She frowns, delicate brows drawing together. “He did look a little weird. Pale.” Her lips twist. “Paler than usual, I mean.”

“He went home,” Fangs says, while throwing one last longing look at Keller. “Said he wasn't feeling well.”

Fangs chews thoughtfully at his candy. “He looked like crap.”

And really, that should have been the end of it. Jones is sick, so he went home. 

The fucking End, except Sweet Pea can't help worrying a little about him. He knows FP is out of town on Serpent business, and Jughead isn't really one to admit when he's sick. If he actually told Fangs that he was feeling bad, he must be in a really shitty state, and it would just be Sweet Pea's fucking luck if FP came home next week to find Jughead on the floor, choked to death on his own vomit. He'd probably blame Sweet Pea.

So it's purely self-preservation that leads him to the Jones trailer once school's out for the day. He still doesn't tell Fangs or Toni, because they would just give him shit about it.

He knocks on the door, half expecting having to break it in, but he doesn't have to wait long before Jughead practically throws it open in his face.

He's wearing a ratty terrycloth robe, haphazardly tied closed around his waist, and not much else, and his face doesn't look pale, the way Sweet Pea expected. He looks _flushed_ , a blush on his face and on his neck and what he can see of his chest.

His eyes are strangely dark, the usual sea green irises swallowed up by the pupils.

He's not wearing his dumb beanie, and that's the most jarring part. Sweet Pea can't remember ever having seen him without it. Under any other circumstances, Sweet Pea would be enjoying the sight.

“Are you high?” Sweet Pea knows he sounds pissed, but that's okay, because he _is_. He can't believe he actually worried about the little fucker.

Jughead shakes his head slowly. He looks a little dazed. “No,” he says, squinting a little at Sweet Pea. “I don't do drugs.”

Sweet Pea still isn't sure he believes him, because he's acting really weird, and not like he's sick.

He shoulders his way past Jughead and finds a trail of clothes on the floor, like Jughead came home and immediately started stripping. Weird. Even his boxers are there, so he probably is naked under that robe.

He can hear Jughead closing the door behind him and the click of a lock being turned.

“You smell really good.” It's said very softly, and okay, that's definitely weird. 

Sweet Pea whirls around and finds Jughead right next to him, gazing up at his face with something like hunger.

“Are you sure you're not high?” He has to ask, because this is not normal. Jughead Jones doesn't tell people that they smell good, and he definitely doesn't let them see him half-naked, without his precious hat on.

Jughead smiles loopily at him. “Nah,” he says. “I feel great.”

“Fangs said you didn't feel well.” Sweet Pea crosses his arms over his chest. He feels a bit like someone's parent right now. Not his own, because they were the assholes who left him to fend for himself, and not Jughead's, because FP's pretty lax as parents go, and he can't imagine his mom gives much of a shit since she left him and all.

“Everything was so weird,” Jughead tells him. He brings his hand up to scratch his head, and then he pauses, looking startled, mouth a little open in a 'o' of surprise, and starts twirling his hair. There's a dreamy look on his face.

“I felt all- all sparkly and I wanted,” he sighs. “I wanted so much, but there were so many people so I went home.”

He pouts a little. “It's not as good on my own though.” He tongue darts out nervously, wetting his bottom lip and making it look shiny and oh-so-tempting.

“It would be better with you. I _wanted_ it to be with you.”

_Ookay._ Sweet Pea has officially entered a weird alternative reality, where Jughead Jones is some kind of needy little sex kitten.

“I should go,” he says, a little reluctantly. Jughead is a bit _too_ appealing like this, stripped bare of all his defenses, but Sweet Pea's also worried about him. He's not sure he wants to leave him alone like this, vulnerable and a bit out of it. 

“Stay,” Jughead pleads with him. He rises up on his toes and presses a kiss to Sweet Pea's cheek, practically falling into him. Sweet Pea reflexively puts his arms around him, and Jughead presses even closer, almost purring now.

“You feel so good,” he breathes. He's caressing Sweet Pea's arms through his shirt, nuzzling up against his jaw, and it is really freaky, but also unsettlingly hot. His hair is tickling Sweet Pea's cheek, and it feels just as soft as it looks, and smells citrus-y and fresh. 

“I had to leave before, because Ethel was there, and Reggie and Archie and _everyone_ , and I saw you across the hall and I wanted nothing more than to crawl over to you and suck your dick, and I knew you wouldn't have liked that.” He mumbles it against Sweet Pea's neck, and he can feel Jughead's breath like soft little puffs of air on his skin, and Sweet Pea knows his resolve is crumbling, like a cheap school cafeteria cracker.

Jughead can probably sense it too, because he leans back a little, looks at Sweet Pea with his fucking doe eyes and begs him to not go. 

“Please, Sweet Pea,” he says. “I need you.”

He grabs the lapels of Sweet Pea's jacket and starts pushing it off his shoulders, and Sweet Pea doesn't stop him, even though a better man probably should. 

“I've been thinking about you since lunch,” Jughead tells him seriously. “I had to jerk off in the bathroom, but it didn't help. I was in math class, but all I could think about was how your cock would feel inside me.” He sounds so matter of fact. Sweet Pea's had a few girls talk sexy to him before, but they'd been using their sex voices. Jughead sounds like he's just making conversation. 'The sun was shining, I had a tuna melt for lunch, I want your cock inside me'. It's somewhat reassuring, because it means at his core, he's still Jughead, and not just a sexy body-snatcher. 

Sweet Pea's jacket falls to the floor, and Jughead turns his attention to his shirt. “You're wearing too many clothes,” he complains, and Sweet Pea has to laugh.

“That's hilarious coming from you,” he says, thinking about Jughead and his layered shirts and his eternal hat. 

“I can take this off if you want,” Jughead offers. “I only put it on because someone was at the door.”

“Yeah, thats-” That's not really necessary, is what he's about to say, but Jughead doesn't listen, just unties the belt and opens the robe, letting it fall off his shoulders. It happens so quickly Sweet Pea doesn't really have time to register what's going on until Jughead is standing completely naked in front of him, looking remarkably at ease.

Sweet Pea tries to keep his eyes locked on Jughead's face, but they keep slipping down, down, down, past the slender neck and the smooth and surprisingly muscled chest with its brown and perky nipples, down to the happy trail, and down to his cock, hard, and rising from the dark thatch of pubic hair.

It's a lot to take in, is what he's saying.

He has to force himself to focus back on Jughead's face. He's noticed Sweet Pea's lapse, and is smiling at him, smug and happy. 

“I really want to suck you,” he says. “Can I?” He's not waiting for a reply, practically pushing Sweet Pea towards the bedroom. Sweet Pea has every intention of fighting him off, but then Jughead confides in him, “I've never done this before, but I'll try to make it good for you,” and reason takes a flying leap out of the window, because Jughead wanting Sweet Pea to be his first, wanting to be _good_ for him, is one of those idle shower fantasies, like Cheryl letting him titty-fuck her, or Veronica Lodge giving him a lap dance in her cheerleader uniform, that he never in a million years expected to come true.

There only appears to be one bedroom in the Jones trailer, and Sweet Pea has to wonder what the sleeping arrangements are like. Do they take turns sleeping on the bed, or does Jughead just sleep on the couch when FP's home? He doesn't ask, because it's not his business, and he doesn't really care. The bedroom is theirs for now, and that's what's important.

Jughead leads him to the bed, and immediately starts tugging at Sweet Pea's shirt. With a put-upon sigh, Sweet Pea shrugs it off, and then he pulls his singlet over his head for good measure. Jughead makes a small broken sound, like a kitten being squeezed or something. He's staring at Sweet Pea's chest, his arms, his shoulders, the way he only ever has seen him stare at food before.

“Like what you see?” he asks, a little smug, and Jughead nods, eager and unashamed. 

“Pants too,” he says, reaching out for Sweet Pea's belt.

Sweet Pea snorts, and kicks off his shoes. Jughead is watching his every move with interest, actually licking his lips when Sweet Pea opens his belt, and then it's like he can't stand not touching him any longer, because he impatiently bats away Sweet Pea's hands and unbuttons the fly himself, hands shaking a little, like he just wants it so much he can't stand it. 

He falls almost helplessly to his knees in front of Sweet Pea, looking up at him with fever-bright eyes, and pulls his jeans down to his ankles, lifting his feet one by one and dragging the pants completely off him. 

Sweet Pea's only in his boxer briefs now, his erection tenting the front, and Jughead straightens up a little, traces his dick through the cotton with his fingers. Then, like he just can't help himself he leans in, and sucks at the head through the fabric, working his tongue around until there's a wet spot, and it's a struggle to not just grab his head and keep him there, but Sweet Pea prevails. Jughead leans back, seemingly satisfied, and carefully drags the underwear down past Sweet Pea's cock, and then quicker down his legs. Sweet Pea steps out of them, kicking them away.

Jughead reaches for his dick, but Sweet Pea stops him. “On the bed,” he says. He grabs a couple of pillows, lies down on his back. If he's getting blown, he'd rather be comfortable. Jughead follows him, climbing onto the bed and settling between Sweet Pea's legs.

When he gets his hand around Sweet Pea's cock, he actually sighs, like it's a relief to get to this point. He puts his mouth around it with none of the hesitance Sweet Pea would have expected from a guy who's just confessed to being a blowjob virgin, soft lips opening eagerly for it, tongue already covering his teeth. He moans softly too, at the taste, or the weight of it in his mouth; hard to tell, and Sweet Pea reaches out for him, cups his face in his hands, thumb tracing the constellation of moles on his cheek.

Jughead sighs happily, and takes more of Sweet Pea's cock into his mouth, sucking sloppily at it. It's far from the best blowjob he's ever had, but a hot mouth is always a hot mouth, and Jughead's enthusiasm is sexy in itself. He even tries deep-throating him, but ends up having to draw back, choking a little. Sweet Pea tugs at his hair, and Jughead releases his cock with a wet-sounding 'pop'. His mouth and chin is slick with saliva, and he's frowning a little. Petulant. 

Sweet Pea bites back a smile and ruffles his hair a little. He can't help it, Jughead just looks so cute; adorably irritated at his own gag-reflex.

“I'll probably come soon if you keep it up,” Sweet Pea says, and Jughead's face brightens. 

“Is it okay?” He sounds so eager.  
“It's good,” Sweet Pea offers. Jughead's got some way to go before he's even close to being a blowjob champion, but he's eager, not afraid to use his tongue, and has the good sense to keep his teeth covered.

“Can you fuck me after?” Jughead gives him a hopeful look. “I really want your cock inside me.”

This sort of shit doesn't happen to Sweet Pea. Cute guys don't just tell him shit like this. He somehow doubts anyone outside of porn has this happen to them. 

“Sure,” he says, hating that his voice sounds a little shaky. 

“Promise?” 

“Pinky swear,” Sweet Pea says, nodding solemnly. 

Jughead beams at him, dimples showing and everything, and then he bends down and sucks Sweet Pea's dick into his mouth again. Sweet Pea holds onto his hair, which is the perfect length for it, and grunts encouragement to him.

“Yeah, that's it,” and “use your tongue,” and then, when he notices that Jughead is actually humping the bed, so close to coming just from having Sweet Pea's dick in his mouth, “always knew you'd be a slut for it,” and he almost regrets it the second he says it, because Jughead can be such a prude sometimes. It makes Jughead moan around the dick in his mouth though, not prudish at all, and that makes more words spill out of Sweet Pea mouth, makes him tell Jughead how pretty he looks with his lips around Sweet Pea's cock, how he's gonna make him do it all the time from now on, how Sweet Pea's gonna fuck him so good he'll still feel it the next day-

He comes like that, spinning out fantasies for them both, Jughead's hair like silk between his fingers, his mouth hot and wet and eager around him, making all these delicious little slurping sounds as he sucks Sweet Pea's orgasm out of him. Sweet Pea doesn't warn him, but Jughead still swallows every drop he has to give; hungry for it.

When Jughead finally lets Sweet Pea's softening dick slide out of his mouth, his lips are reddened and plump. He traces them with his thumb, looking a little wondering. He's so pretty like this, with his well-fucked mouth, and hair a riot on his head; both courtesy of Sweet Pea. 

Sweet Pea can't help himself anymore, has to haul him up for a kiss. Jughead responds beautifully, sighing happily when Sweet Pea sucks on his lip, and letting his tongue tangle with his eagerly. Sweet Pea just had his dick sucked, and is feeling magnanimous, so he reaches down to give Jughead a hand. 

“No,” Jughead complains, batting his hand away and breaking their kiss. “I want to come on your dick.” He leans back in and gives Sweet Pea a brief peck on the lips. “Please, fuck me. You promised.”

He's honest-to-god _pouting_ , and Sweet Pea is torn between laugher and arousal. On the one hand, if he told Fangs and Toni about this, Jughead would never ever get to live it down (although Sweet Pea has to admit, if only to himself, that even if he enjoys the idea of taking down the Serpent King a peg or two he's not quite that cruel); on the other hand, this is easiest the hottest thing that's ever happened to him, and he wants more of this. Wants to see if he can make Jughead beg for it even when he's not caught under this weird spell.

“C'mon, Sweets, I know you want to,” Jughead whines. He grabs Sweet Pea's hand it brings it back to his ass, and Sweet Pea is not one to decline an invitation like that.

He gives him a slap, and Jughead moans, so Sweet Pea does it again, and again, not stopping until he can feel Jughead growing hard against his thigh.

He drags his fingers over Jughead's hole, teasing the rim a little. “Lube?” he asks, and Jughead frowns. 

“We don't need that,” Jughead insists, trying to grind back against his fingers.

Sweet Pea grabs him and rolls them over, pushing Jughead's hands over his head. “I'll fuck you,” he tells him seriously, “but not without lube.”

Jughead scowls up at him from behind a curtain of hair, red-faced and sulky. “I can totally take it,” he says.

Sweet Pea cracks a smile at that. “No, you can't. Either you tell me where you keep the lube, or I'll walk out from here.”

Jughead huffs out an irritated breath, his fringe rustling a little from the small gust of air. Sweet Pea can't help but brush it away from his face, tucking the hair behind his ear. It's a stupidly tender gesture really, and it makes Jughead melt a little, stop struggling.

“It's in the drawer,” he finally admits.

It's a matter of seconds to reach over to the bedside table and open the drawer. There's a half-empty tube of lubricant in there, as well as a strip of condoms, and Sweet Pea grabs both items and dumps them on the bed.

Jughead gives him a betrayed look. “I wanted you to come in my ass,” he says, and once again Sweet Pea has to marvel that this is apparently his life and not some kind of fever dream brought on by watching too much porn.

He snorts. “Not on the first date,” and Jughead's face falls, but he's not protesting, so at least he seems to understand that Sweet Pea means business.

Sweet Pea grabs the lube, and Jughead watches with interest as he squeezes out some of the clear gel on his hand. He lifts his hips without any coaxing; even goes so far as to push a pillow under his ass, and doesn't complain when Sweet Pea dribbles some of the cold lube on his ass. Just shivers a little, and bites his lip, still looking eager for it.

Sweet Pea pats his hip and brings a well-lubed finger to the tightly furled hole. He rubs at it a little, and Jughead sighs and relaxes even further. When he finally pushes the finger in, it glides in easy, no resistance at all, and with a firm suspicion in mind, he adds a second finger, feeling Jughead's body accept it with ease.

“Did you finger yourself?” he asks, voice a little hushed, reverent, and Jughead breathes out a dreamy little _mhm_ sound. He's got his hands on his chest, playing with his nipples; pinching and rolling the hard little peaks with his fingers.

“Before you came,” he says. “But this is better.” He looks at Sweet Pea with lust-fogged green eyes. “Yours are bigger.” 

Sweet Pea goes hot all over. Suddenly he can't wait to show Jughead just how big he is. He curls his fingers a little, watching Jughead's reaction, and he does not disappoint, arching his back wantonly and moaning. 

“Please, Sweet Pea,” he begs, “fuck me,” and Sweet Pea's reaches for the condom with shaky hands, swearing a little when his lube-slick fingers can't get the package open. 

“We don't need that,” Jughead tells him, dangerously pervasive, but Sweet Pea's always made a point of not listing to him, and he's not about to change that now. Besides, as hot as the mental image of Jughead taking his load is, he is, regrettably, the only one out of the two of them who is capable of being responsible right now.

Sweet Pea rolls his eyes and rips the package open with his teeth. He has to grit his teeth when he rolls the condom on; not even inside Jughead yet but already so fucking turned on. He's glad for the condom now; he doesn't think he could have done this bare-back without blowing his load too soon. 

“Next time,” he grits out, a promise to them both.

He grabs Jughead's hip with one hand, and with the other he guides his dick to his asshole. His plan is to go slow, because while his fingers are large, his cock is a lot bigger, and he wants Jughead to enjoy this, wants it kind of desperately actually.

He should have remembered that Jughead is a contrary bastard even at the best of times. 

Instead of the slow and steady glide that Sweet Pea had planned, once his cock-head has penetrated that tight little ring of muscles, Jughead pushes _back_ , not stopping until Sweet Pea's balls are slapping against his ass.

There is no way that feels wholly good, but Jughead whimpers like it is, like he's made for it; made for taking Sweet Pea's cock.

“Thank you,” he moans, eye-lashes fluttering, and he's so hot and tight around Sweet Pea's dick that it's a struggle not to come right then and there.

Sweet Pea has to take a moment, but then he starts fucking him for real, not being nice about it. Jughead moans like he loves it, meeting every thrust, chasing Sweet Pea's dick every time he withdraws. 

“Gonna make you come just from this,” Sweet Pea mutters, and there's a “yes,” in Jughead's moan at that, and a “please, so close,” and Sweet Pea keeps fucking him, telling him how good he feels and how he's gonna be Sweet Pea's slut from now on, no one else's, “you beautiful little _whore_ ,” and Jughead looks so perfect like this, sweaty and wanton and _his_ that he can't help himself, has to bend down and bite a little at that pale neck, suck at the skin there, and Jughead clenches around him, his head thrown back on the pillow in ecstasy, ropes of cum shooting from his dick and smearing messily between their bodies.

It doesn't take much for Sweet Pea to come after that. Just a few more thrusts, Jughead a limp, fucked-out mess under him, nothing but a tight hole to fuck into at this point, whimpering a little but taking it, letting Sweet Pea chase his own pleasure.

His orgasm washes over him like a wave, head-to-toe, and he groans at the force of it, emptying himself.

Sweet Pea practically collapses on top of Jughead, completely spent. He pulls out, trying to be careful about it, but Jughead still hisses a little in discomfort. He ties off the condom, throwing it on the floor. Jughead can clean it up in the morning.

He should go before this gets awkward, but Jughead has latched onto him now, arms slung around Sweet Pea's waist. It can't be comfortable, Sweet Pea a heavy weight on top of him, so he rolls them over, until Jughead's lying with his head on Sweet Pea's chest. It's such a fucking cliché, but Sweet Pea can't help but enjoy the weight of of him. It feels right to lie like this, to put his arms around Jughead's shoulders.

He'll leave as soon as Jughead falls asleep.

~*~ 

Sweet Pea wakes up slowly. The sun is shining in his eyes, and he really needs to take a piss. He looks at the alarm, and, _shit_ , it's 6 AM. So much for not staying the night.

He must have moved in his sleep, because he's spooning Jughead, his morning wood poking at his ass. Jughead seems completely lost to the world. Sweet Pea carefully untangles himself. Jughead makes a small sound of distress at the loss of body contact, but he rolls over on his back without waking up. He looks peaceful, mouth lax in sleep, hair a complete disaster zone. There is a big hickey right under his jaw, and Sweet Pea wonders how pissed about that he'll be when he wakes up. 

Sweet Pea goes to the bathroom and does his business. He smells kind of funky, so he decides to take a shower while he's there. He doesn't linger, because he figures Jughead is in even greater need of a through cleaning than he is, and he doesn't want to waste all his hot water. 

He borrows his towel, because he doesn't know where Jughead keeps the clean ones. It's old and kind of thread-bare and has some bleach stains on it, but it's nice and big. 

He draws the line at using his tooth brush, but he finds some Listerine he can swish around in his mouth. 

Sweet Pea feels like a new man when he comes out of the bathroom; clean, dry, and minty fresh. He debates whether he should leave once he gets dressed, or make sure Jughead is okay first, but Jughead kind of makes up his mind for him, because when Sweet Pea returns to the bedroom, Jughead is awake.

He's sitting up in bed, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and looking far too innocent for a dude who literally begged for Sweet Pea's cock the night before.

When Jughead notices him he pales, eyes going wide and worried.

“Sweet Pea,” he says, and Sweet Pea is a little worried of what's gonna come out of his mouth. Doesn't he remember last night? Or is he regretting everything?

Jughead gathers the blanket around himself, pulling it up over his chest, and part of Sweet Pea wants to tell him that it's a little too late to grow shy on him now, after stripping naked in front of him before. But Jughead surprises him.

“I'm so sorry,” he says, sounding genuine. Sweet Pea crosses his arms and waits him out, because he has no idea what Jughead has to be sorry about. 'Sorry for giving you the best sex of your life?' Maybe he's sorry about the lack of amenities.

Jughead shakes his head, looking a little ill. “I can't believe I forced myself on you like that. I'm not like that,” he says, like Sweet Pea doesn't already know that. He's all respectful and shit.

“It's okay,” he tells him, because, seriously? No regrets. “You didn't force me to do anything.”

“Are you sure?”

Sweet Pea makes a sweeping gesture over himself. “Pfft, like you could force me do anything.”

Jughead cracks a smile at that. His eyes skitter across Sweet Pea's bare chest and then swiftly move to the side. 

“I don't know what came over me. It was like all I could think about was sex.”

“Sex with me,” Sweet Pea says, because he's an asshole, and because he wants the Jughead of yesterday to have been telling the truth when he said it was all for him.

“I- Yeah.” Jughead gives him an unsure look. “It's like every sexual thought I'd ever had about you was suddenly amplified.”

That is a nice ego-boost, knowing that Jughead has thought about him before, that it wasn't just a fluke.

Sweet Pea smirks, and swaggers over to the bed. “Think about me when you jerk off?” 

“Sometimes,” Jughead admits. He brings his hand to his mouth, chews on his thumb nail a little distractedly. “But yesterday was not normal.”

“Yeah,” Sweet Pea says. He sits down next to Jughead. Puts his hand on his knee. “I thought you were high at first.”

“Maybe I was.” Jughead looks thoughtful. “Could someone have slipped me something?”

“I don't know, man. I don't know of any drugs with that effect.”

“A new strain of Jingle-Jangle? That's a sex drug, right?”

Sweet Pea grimaces. “Nah. It makes you horny and suggestible, it doesn't turn you into a total nympho.”

“Oh God,” Jughead moans, scrubbing at his face with his hands. “I just remembered that I fucking stripped in front of you.”

“Best day of my life,” Sweet Pea cheerfully informs him, and it's not even a lie.

Jughead punches his arm, and that's good. Normal.

“Are you okay?” He feels a little awkward asking, but Jughead was the one who was possibly given some kind of mystery drug and was stripped of all his inhibitions.

“You know, I think I am.” He looks a little surprised. “Of all the weird shit Riverdale's thrown at me, at least this didn't end in violence.”

“And,” he says, giving him an impish smile, “now I know that if I do this-” He leans in and gives Sweet Pea a soft kiss, “-you won't mind.”

**Author's Note:**

> Meanwhile, Ethel wore her best underwear to school, and for what?


End file.
